


Knock Knock

by rosmarine



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Gen, Paranormal, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosmarine/pseuds/rosmarine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every morning, for the few days, Hiro had been woken up by a knock on the door and his brother’s greeting of, “good morning, knucklehead.”</p><p>Which was weird, considering that Tadashi had been in his grave for a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knock Knock

After the first night, Hiro assumed he was crazy.

“Auditory hallucinations,” he murmured, pulling the covers up to his chin. They felt like they were made of lead, crushing the air out of his lungs.

“They are not uncommon when one experiences the loss of a loved one.”

 _The loss._ Hiro felt a stab of pain. His throat closed, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the heat wave washing over him.

Hiro would’ve been _fine_ , he believed, if the voice hadn’t been so goddamn cheerful.

Every morning, for the past few days, Hiro had been woken up by a knock on the door and his brother’s greeting of, “good morning, knucklehead.”

Which was _weird_ , considering that Tadashi had been in his grave for a week.

His fingers ached to clench around the doorknob, but he couldn’t do it to himself. He knew the hall would be empty. He knew his heart would crumble.

_“Good morning, knucklehead.”_

“Baymax, I need you to do me a favor.”

“I am programmed to obey any orders, so long as I do not cause injury to another person.”

“Great. Tonight, point your tape recorder at my bedroom door and leave it running. Don’t stop it for anything until I give you the okay. Got it?”

Baymax looked around, scanning the cluttered floor.

“Is there an object you wish me to get?”

Hiro let out a groan, pushing Baymax out the door and muttering, “figure of speech.”

o-o

Hiro spent the night dreadfully awake. His entire life, Hiro had fallen asleep to the sound of his brother’s obnoxious snores. He could hear Tadashi’s obnoxious breathing from the top bunk, across the divider, even – on the nights it thundered, and Hiro was plagued by memories of _the_ night, the one Tadashi never talked about and Hiro couldn’t remember – curled around him in a warm embrace. The late nights Tadashi spent in the lab, Hiro wrote code and tweaked his robotic parts until the early hours of the morning, when he’d snap at Aunt Cass over oatmeal.

Hiro’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Through his closed eyelids, he glimpsed the first rays of the rising sun, shooting through his drawn curtains. He caught a whiff of freshly baked croissants, and – something else. His nose twitched. Had Aunt Cass forgotten to put away the tuna salad overnight?

_Knock knock. “Good morning, knucklehead.”_

Hiro inhaled. Held it for three beats. Exhaled for four. Moving like a funeral procession, he crawled out of bed, stepped over exposed wiring, and pushed open his bedroom door. The luminous screen in Baymax’s abdomen reflected his haggard features.

Hiro flinched. Jesus – they could use him to advertise for demonic possession.

“Thanks, Baymax,” he said, his voice rough, “you can stop.”

“Recording complete. Did you sleep well, Hiro?”

“Yeah, like a frigging leprechaun. Play back the feed at, oh, quintuple speed.”

Hiro backed into his bedroom, plopping into his desk chair. He crossed his arms on the desk in front of him, nestling his chin into the crevice and watched the times stamp whizz by.

There were 5 hours of footage at least, which meant around 300 minutes, viewed at 15x speed, it’d take around 20 minutes to view it –

Hiro woke to the sound of static. He wiped a hand across his chin, catching a strand of drool. Fuzz clouded the screen, like it was tuned to a dead channel.

“Come on, buddy, rewind. “

There was a knock in the bedroom door. Hiro jolted upwards, shrieking. His heart hammered.

“Hiro?!” Aunt Cass flung open the door, sending the glass of orange juice on her carried breakfast tray wobbling precariously.  Hiro clutched his chest.

“Sorry,” he panted. “It’s just that something weird happened. Has _been_ happening. And I – I don’t know what to do.”

His words fell softly, choked off with desperation.

Aunt Cass placed the tray on the windowsill, the only area in the room not obscured by stacks of paper or robotic parts. She glanced around at the mess – it had grown out of control. But Tadashi was always the one to step in, helping Hiro fold his laundry and holding the garbage bag open for Hiro to toss stuff into.

Aunt Cass stood behind Hiro, placing a hand on his shoulder. For the first time in a week, Hiro didn’t shrug it off.

“Were you – recording your door?” she asked, tilting her head. Her fingers clenched, digging into Hiro’s shoulder.

The static cleared.

“Play at normal speed.”

Behind him, Aunt Cass inhaled sharply.

“So you hear it too.” Her words never pierced Hiro’s cloudy consciousness. He’d stopped breathing, leaning forwards until his nose brushed the screen. Rays of light bounced off his cheeks, washing out his already pale face.

For a moment, the silence stretched on.

The camera focused on the door. The rudimentary design for a flame-throwing robot was still taped to it from – when? A project, when he was still in high school.

Every hair on Hiro’s body stood up as he watched an arm, layers of muscle he knew were hidden beneath the sleeve of the gray cardigan, reach out and rap against the door.

“ _Good morning, knucklehead.”_ The rumbling voice shot right through Hiro. He scrambled backwards, knocking into Aunt Cass. Her arm tightened around his chest. Hiro tilted his head upwards until their eyes met, wearing matching expressions of fear.

The video had captured exactly what Hiro had wanted – Tadashi’s presence, in the form of his arm and voice. But it had captured a third element, one that neither Hiro nor Aunt Cass had experienced since they moved into the small apartment.

Just before cutting to static, the video had caught the sound of the attic door sliding open.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize.


End file.
